


Yea, Though I Walk

by tardisy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, M/M, Purgatory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-06-05
Packaged: 2017-12-14 00:50:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/830779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tardisy/pseuds/tardisy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Dean would stalk away after a particularly difficult fight; sometimes in the night – or what passed for it, around these parts – he’d slink away when he thought Benny was sleeping; and sometimes, they’d just be walking, quiet, and Dean would suddenly get this faraway look on his face, and mumble to Benny to “give him a sec” while he trudged into the brush.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yea, Though I Walk

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [Tumblr](http://tardisy.tumblr.com/post/52131702000/it-aint-safe-to-wander-off-on-your-own-man)

“It ain’t safe to wander off on your own, man.” Benny twirled his weapon expertly, bored. The woods around them were still and quiet, and Dean had decided that they could take a brief respite before continuing their search for that damn angel. And by _decided_ , he meant that Dean had pointed to Benny and told him to “ _Take five and grab some pine and, for fuck’s sake, don’t follow me_.”

“Yeah? I seemed to have done all right before I met you, Twilight. I just need a minute.”

Dean turned on his heels to retreat deeper into the gloomy shelter of the forest, a habit that, despite his current irritation, pleased Benny. At first, when Dean would sneak away to perform this mysterious ritual of his, he would never completely turn his attention away from the vampire. Now, though, Dean at least trusted him enough to know he wasn’t going to jump him when his back was turned. Will wonders never cease.

Benny watched as Dean disappeared into the cover, shaking his head in annoyance. It was a strange tradition, but one Dean seemed to need, and thus, one Benny tolerated. Anything to keep him happy and on Team Let’s Blow This Pop Stand ASAP.

Dean’s little tradition was consistently random: consistent in that it happened every day, but random because Benny could never predict when it would happen. Sometimes Dean would stalk away after a particularly difficult fight; sometimes in the night – or what passed for it, around these parts – he’d slink away when he thought Benny was sleeping; and sometimes, they’d just be walking, quiet, and Dean would suddenly get this faraway look on his face, and mumble to Benny to “give him a sec” while he trudged into the brush.

What was he doing out there? Benny didn’t have a damn clue. He never asked, but assumed that, well. Dean was a grown man. He probably… had needs. Benny understood. What is it they say? He may be old but he ain’t dead? Except he’s both now; shit. But Dean’s patterns were fuckin’ weird, and really, Benny didn’t think he was sneaking away to clean the pipes.  He started to ask Dean about it once, but had only gotten so far as to waggle his eyebrows suggestively before Dean stomped away in a huff, calling him a pervert, and proclaiming that if Benny followed him he’d gank him so fast he’d give Blade a run for his money.

Maybe he was communing with nature, what’d he know. And yeah, color him curious, but the thing that bothered him the most was having Dean out of sight and, presumably, out of earshot. It was a lot of work to book his ticket on the soul train out of Purgatory and, well, if he was honest with himself, Benny was genuinely starting to like the guy. Even if he did have his head up his ass when it came to his wayward feathered friend.

Benny was startled out of his reverie when he heard what sounded like a short, sharp gasp come from the direction Dean had wandered.  

“God dammit,” he growled, and started toward the sound, adrenaline pumping. How many times did he tell the damn fool? How many times did he say it was stupid to wander off alone? Humans, man.

As he made his way toward the origin of noise, light broke through the canopy, and, at a small clearing, Benny skidded to a stop. There was Dean – who, by the way, gave no indication that he even heard Benny’s thundering approach, and they were damn sure going to have words about that later, make no mistake – hunched over, on his knees, his weapon on the ground before him. Just… sitting, with his back to Benny. Ducking behind a tree, Benny watched him carefully, forehead creased in confusion. Was he injured? What in the hell was he doing?  Was he even breathing? Before Benny could decide if he should just grab the bastard by the scruff and drag them away from whatever danger was lurking there, that broken sound that had alerted him to begin with snapped in the small space between them.

That noise came from… Dean? And only then did Benny really consider his current position. Dean Winchester had seemed larger than life in these parts. Benny heard the stories about him before, about the man that gave the monsters nightmares. He didn’t take any of Benny’s shit, and would throw his own at the vampire in return. The dude was tough, smart, and the only time his voice lost a bit of that hardened edge was when he talked about the angel, “ _Cas_.” Now, here, Benny saw nothing of the man he had come to know. Dean looked so old, so tired, so… defeated. His head hung low, and blood –whose it was, Benny couldn’t recall – dripped onto the ground, staining the fallen leaves. Dean’s hands rested lightly against his thighs, fingers twitching slightly.

Benny startled when there was a sharp inhalation, and Dean muttered, “You son of a bitch.” He held his breath, waiting for the patented Winchester rage to be thrown in his direction, but it never came. Dean continued, and didn’t turn around.

“We, uh, came across this werewolf today. Said he knew what happened to you. Said I’m too late; you’ve been dead for weeks. Said there’s stories goin’ around about this stash of bloody feathers out there somewhere, that if you touched ‘em, you’d be healed. He is- he was, so full of shit, ‘cause those feathers you gave Sammy and me never did a damn thing. Unless you’ve been holding out on us; then, I’m gonna make you pay when I find you.”

When he laughed, it was short and hollow, and Dean’s shoulders trembled slightly with it. Benny felt uncomfortable, and he desperately wanted to sneak away, but wanted to avoid alerting Dean to his presence far more. The bark of the tree scraped roughly against his cheek as he pressed closer to it, hoping it would be enough to conceal him, while Dean continued on.

“Where the hell are you, man? If you can hear me, if you… if you’re up for it, you gotta leave me some kind of sign as to where they’re dragging you. ‘Cause I just feel like I’m runnin’ in circles, buddy.” Dean tipped his head back toward the canopy, and Benny could see that his eyes were tightly closed, could hear the heavy drag of each breath.

“Please, Cas,” Dean exhaled, and to Benny, it sounded like every prayer he heard his mama whisper in the soft evening light, rosary beads dripping through her fingers. “I need- I need.” And Dean leaned forward then, grasping handfuls of leaves as he gripped at the ground, and when he spoke again it sounded like the words were being torn from his gut. “You dumb son of a bitch. I don’t know what to do any more.” And that wasn’t blood dripping from Dean’s face now, it was tears, and fuck if Dean heard him. A strange urgency flooded through him, and Benny just needed to haul ass out of there, no matter what. Pushing away from the tree, Benny strode away quickly and quietly, sticking to the shadows. He felt unsettled, uneasy, and when he returned to the spot where they had parted, he couldn’t sit still.

When Dean returned a short time later, he fixed Benny with a hard look, and he was sure that Dean found him out, and was about to send him to his maker a second time. But all he said was, “Well, come on. What the hell are we waiting for, Vlad?”

His voice carried its familiar hard-edge, as though it hadn’t been cracked and pleading minutes before, his eyes were clear, and the only indication that he had been crouching brokenly in the middle of Purgatory, praying to some stupid angel that was probably long gone, were the new mud stains on his knees, the broken blood stains on his cheeks, and the fresh dirt under his fingernails.

Dean snapped his fingers in front of Benny’s face, looking vaguely concerned. “Purgatory to Blood Sucker. Do you copy, man?”

Benny blinked rapidly and cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah, brother. Let’s get a move on.”

“Damn straight. I think we oughta head that way.” Dean pointed out the direction with his weapon, and strode away confidently before Benny could respond.

Benny watched after him for a moment, taking in the straight, sure line of his back, his bold stride, and thought back to the way he clutched at the ground such a short time ago, of the soft, gentle way he whispered, “ _Cas.”_ Clutching his weapon in his hand, Benny set off after Dean, his chest tight.

After he unintentionally (and unnoticeably, thank you very much) crashed his little ritual, Benny didn’t protest when Dean held up a hand and threw a “ _Five minutes_ ” over his shoulder as he marched into the shadows.

But now, as he sat and waited for Dean to return, Benny would unfailingly catch the sweet scent of his mama’s beignets on the air. Out of the corner of his eye, he would see the desperate clutch of her praying hands as she huddled over herself in the dying light. And every time, as his mind wandered, cold and uneasy, he would hear her soft whisper, “ _Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [Tumblr](http://tardisy.tumblr.com/post/52131702000/it-aint-safe-to-wander-off-on-your-own-man)


End file.
